And then, a bright smile leaps to her face. I follow her line of sight and spot Daksh. He’s parking his scooter. I never thought I would see Daksh riding a rundown scooter. But then again, Daksh has always been weird.
Daksh waves at the teacher. I follow Rabbani as she runs towards Daksh. Daksh picks Rabbani up and buries his face excitedly into her neck, sending her into splits of laughter. That’s when he notices me.
‘They evacuated the hotel too,’ I explain my presence. ‘. . . and I saw her, she’s ditto like you. Like a photocopy, isn’t it?’
‘Called you last night. Your phone was off.’ He sounds concerned. ‘Was everything all right? You shouldn’t switch off your phone in a new city.’
Rabbani pulls at my sleeve excitedly. ‘Jagath Dada and Zeenath Didi were talking about you,’ she chirps.
‘Rabbu?’ says Daksh, surprised. He turns towards me. ‘They are my friends. They wanted to know whose number I was trying. They know about my crush.’
My face goes warm. How easily he says it. How innocently, but also how seriously.
‘What’s a crush?’ asks Rabbani.
Daksh starts laughing. ‘When you really like someone’s face,’ he answers. ‘I told you this the last time we met Aunty, but you were too young. Look at her. Isn’t she beautiful?’
‘Ummm . . .’
‘Rabbani,’ I say and catch her attention. ‘I’m your Didi, not Aunty, okay?’ I turn to Daksh. ‘You called quite a few times yesterday.’
‘How could I have not? It was a crazy coincidence seeing you,’ he responds. ‘Anyway, my friends were over, we were up till late so I thought you could join us too.’ He pauses, then catches my eye. ‘If you’re free today, you can come to my birthday party.’
‘It’s your birthday today?’
‘I turn twenty-two. Legitimate adult now, a whisker away from the mid-twenties. Pretty soon, I’ll be complaining about arthritis and all that. So, will you come?’
His eyes are soft, like a Labrador’s. In the past couple of minutes, he has gone from being concerned about me to being happy about his birthday, then calling me home excitedly.
‘Of course I will come. Send me your location and the time,’ I say.
His face lights up. ‘I will text you,’ he says. His eyes catch mine. ‘See you tonight?’
I nod. He smiles one of those charming smiles of which he has plenty. He makes me feel something I haven’t felt in a long time: a nervous kind of joy.
Daksh drives away with Rabbani clutching on to him like a little chimp.
My phone pings. It’s Daksh’s message with a location and an address.
1223, Dhumketu Apartments, Kandivali, next to the under-construction petrol pump.
Once back in my room, I google Dhumketu Apartments. The pictures show it’s a crumbling, moss-covered, four-storey building with only one-room-kitchen layouts. As I zoom in, I see a bunch of scooters lined up in front of the entrance. One of them is Daksh’s. He made his invitation sound personal, at his house. But now seeing Dhumketu Apartments, it feels like it’s his bachelor pad. Wait, he did sayhome. Though Dhumketu does look too rundown for Daksh and his family.
I will find out tonight. But before that, I must figure out a lie for Vicky.
10.
Daksh Dey
We are making biryani for my birthday—the only dish that can carry a party on its own. Jagath and I are on kitchen duty. Rabbani’s helping Zeenath clean the house.
‘Does she know?’ asks Jagath as he chops up the onions.
I shake my head.
Zeenath frowns. ‘She saw you drive a scooter and didn’t ask? This location, the address, the scooter, they should have all been dead giveaways. That’s a sign, Daksh. You should never fall for someone who’s not interested in your story.’
‘Stop sounding like an Instagram caption,’ I respond. ‘And no one’s falling for anyone here. I have just invited her to my party, that’s it.’
